


A Temporary Arrangement

by lotusk



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Attempt at Humor, Babysitting, CEO Kim Jongin | Kai, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Kid Baekhyun, M/M, Single Parent Park Chanyeol, babysitter Amber, babysitter Jongin, bffs kriskai, bffs krisyeol, everything happens because of this oak tree don't ask, kid Jongdae, side JohnYong, twins baekchen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-06-27 11:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15684405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotusk/pseuds/lotusk
Summary: Chanyeol is desperate for a babysitter and Jongin is desperate for a place to stay for the summer. Match made in heaven, right?(Single dad!AU)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on a prompt by [siderealseokart](https://twitter.com/siderealseokart). Due to real life circumstances, I'm only able to post Chapter 1 for now, but I really hope you like what I've done with your prompt! The following chapters will be uploaded later. Thank you for your patience ❤ 
> 
> Written for [Nigumaru](https://twitter.com/Nigumaru)'s chankai fest on twitter.
> 
> Come talk to me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/stardustc0ffee)

 

“Watch out!” Chanyeol yells, but it’s too late. He watches with growing horror as the Nerf bullet strikes his mug and lukewarm coffee starts blossoming on the cover of a 12-page report he’s supposed to digest by mid-afternoon.

“Sorry, Appa!” Jongdae shakes his head frantically like it will somehow absolve him from blame. The neon green N-Strike GlowShot Blaster hangs loosely in Jongdae’s grip like he’s thinking about just dropping the thing and running for his life.

“It’s okay, Dae but be careful. No more shooting near Appa’s work things, okay?” Chanyeol says tiredly, dragging a hand through his overgrown hair. He’s at least three weeks overdue for a haircut. It’s just as well the twins are only six and not quite old enough to care that their Appa is starting to resemble an Old English Sheepdog. Plus, he has zero dating prospects so it’s not like he’s in any hurry to get his hair sheared off.

“Okay,” little Jongdae nods, his lower lip trembling slightly.

“That goes for you, too, Baek,” Chanyeol states firmly before realizing that his other son is nowhere to be found. “Where’s your brother?”

Jongdae points at the door matter-of-factly. Naturally, his older son had fled the scene of the crime. Chanyeol sighs--not even surprised that Baekhyun is missing. He’s always had a talent for evading situations that might lead to a lecture or worse, a scolding.

“Park Baekhyun! You come back now!” Chanyeol shouts half-heartedly. He knows he should go after the boy and deal with him but his brain is already dialing the babysitting agency to get a temp. The freshly-stained report isn’t going to read itself and there’s spilt coffee waiting to be mopped up. Ugh, he needs Amber back _now_ not in a week’s time. _What’s so fascinating about Europe anyway_ , he wonders peevishly.

“Appa, can I go now?” Jongdae pipes up in a sudden burst of courage, scattering Chanyeol’s thoughts. The NERF gun is still dangling from his hand but he hadn’t run away at least. Good boy.

“Yeah Dae, you can go. But play in the next room where I can hear you. And no more shooting at coffee mugs or things that can break,” Chanyeol warns as he tries his best to look intimidating.

“It was an accident,” Jongdae pouts, sounding more than a little defensive.

“I know it was, Dae. But hot coffee is dangerous and you need to be more careful next time. Ask Baek to come see me, okay?”

“’Kay,” Jongdae says with a solemn nod. Then he tightens his grip on the gun and runs out of the room before his appa has a chance to launch into another lecture on why coffee mugs are inappropriate targets.

Chanyeol slumps onto his desk, only narrowly avoiding the spilt coffee. He’s too weak for this stay-at-home-dad gig. He can’t do this. Not without Amber’s help. No one can distract the boys like Amber can. Almost like magic, his phone lights up--Amber’s name flashing frantically on the screen. Chanyeol straightens, his senses on full alert.

“Amber? Are you okay? What happened?”

Amber’s lazy drawl comes on the line. “Chill, Mr. P, I’m fine.”

“Why are you calling then? You always text. Of course, I’m going to think it’s an emergency if you suddenly call.”

“Well--” Amber says, and there’s a note of hesitation in her voice. “It’s not technically an emergency but it might cause you some problems?”

“Explain.”

“Like, I know I’m supposed to be back in the States in five days and be back at work next Monday but--” she says, her voice trailing off. It’s not like Amber at all to be tentative and it’s making Chanyeol edgy. 

“But what?” Chanyeol drums his fingers restlessly on the desk as a wave of dread creeps up his chest.

“Well, I kinda met a girl. A week ago. We really hit it off and...I really like her, Mr. P,” she admits sheepishly and Chanyeol’s fingers still as he exhales in relief. _She met someone. That’s cool. She just met a girl. She’s not sick or hurt. Everything is cool._

“But that’s great news, Amber.”

“The thing is, I was thinking I’d stay back another week or two so we can figure things out. Like would that be okay?”

Chanyeol stares at the dark stain on his report, hears the clatter of footsteps along the corridors. _No. It’s not okay, Amber, I need you to come back now. I have deadlines and stress. I can’t do this without you. I can’t--_

“Sure,” he says. The dread is rising in his gut at the thought of handling everything on his own, but he grits his teeth and pushes it down. Then he forces himself to ask Amber which European city she’s at now and the name of the girl she’s seeing. 

The minute the call ends, he tries to give himself a pep talk. He can do this. He can look after the twins and meet his deadline without having a breakdown. And if things get too much, he can call his umma. He knows his umma will help. All he has to do is call, he knows that. But she’s got the restaurant to take care of and he doesn’t want to impose any more than he already has. He just needs to call the agency. They’ll have some temp he can hire for the next few days. They have to have a temp, right? They have to have one or else he’s gonna--

His phone is ringing again. And this time, the call that interrupts his panicked thoughts is not from his absent babysitter but his college friend, Yifan, who works as a fashion photographer in the city. Chanyeol hasn’t seen him in weeks but that’s nothing out of the ordinary since Yifan spends more time on a plane in a week than Chanyeol does in a year. He’s out of town or overseas on assignment more often than he’s in town.

“Hey Yeol, how you doing?” It’s nice to hear Yifan’s deep, lazy voice again after two weeks of silence. Chanyeol is grateful for the call; he just wishes he were in a frame of mind to appreciate his friend’s company right now.

“I need a babysitter ASAP so if you know anyone, send them over like NOW.” Chanyeol doesn’t even try to keep the desperation out of his voice.

“That’s some greeting, friend. A hello would’ve been nice, just saying. What happened to Amber? Isn’t she your regular babysitter? Did she quit or something?”

“Amber is in Europe and won’t be back for another two weeks and there’s this big deadline breathing down my neck. I love my kids but it’s summer and school’s out and they’re in my face 24/7. I can’t get any work done. I need some help around here before I fucking lose it.” Chanyeol knows he sounds desperate but he doesn’t even care how he sounds at this point.

“Dude, you know I’d help you out but I honestly have no clue what to do with kids. They’re like. . . two-headed alien beings. And you’ve got two kids so that’s four heads I’d probably lose and I would be like the worst babysitter in the history of--”

“You’re not helping?” Chanyeol cuts him off in exasperation.

“Sorry,” Yifan says contritely. “I’ll try my best to find someone who can help, though. Promise.”

“Thanks, man. Anyway, I gotta go. Work. And a coffee stain to deal with. Don’t ask.”

“I wasn't planning to,” Yifan chuckles. “I’ll ask around for a babysitter and get back to you when I have someone. Take care, Yeol.” There’s genuine concern in his friend’s voice and Chanyeol can feel his stress levels dipping just a little. After they exchange brief goodbyes, Chanyeol starts mopping up the tiny puddles of coffee sprinkled across his work desk. To his relief, there isn’t too much damage to the cover of the report. He flattens page one, his fingers going over the coffee-dampened paper, like he’s trying to soak up the words. He’s got this. He can finish analyzing this report by 3 pm. He’s all hyped up to read its contents when a timer goes off on his phone.

 _Make lunch for the kids_ , the reminder says amid a chorus of loud, obnoxious beeps. 

Chanyeol groans and slumps onto the desk for the second time in ten minutes. It’s definitely time to call the agency again. And maybe Domino’s Pizza.

 

 

#

 

 

With a half-smile and softly uttered _thank you_ , Jongin snags a flute of champagne from the tray held by an elegantly dressed male waiter. Only the best catering services for this product launch--that was what he’d insisted on and that’s what’s being provided tonight. He takes a sip of bubbly and makes a mental sigh. Just another three to four hours of smiling and shaking hands and the last three months of stress will be over. His management team will just have to deal with the follow-up and the next big thing on the agenda— _on their own_. He’s taking the next month off and he’s leaving his phone behind. He’s only sharing his burner phone number with three or four people max and none of them will be from the office, with the exception of his personal assistant, Kim Minseok. It’s gotta be 100% downtime or he’ll succumb to the burnout that’s been threatening to overwhelm him the past year.

A month ago, Jongin had decided on rural Vermont as the destination for his much needed break from the rat race. Minseok had found him a lovely lakefront cabin by Lake Vincent. For the past three weeks, the only thing keeping him going had been the prospect of four weeks of fresh air. Four weeks of tranquility. Four weeks away from the corporate grind. Four weeks without a line of people wanting a piece of him.

It had been a massive blow when Minseok had informed him yesterday that there had been a severe storm in the area surrounding Lake Vincent, causing substantial property damage. With grave eyes, Minseok had told him that among other things, lightning had struck an oak tree which had then fallen on Jongin’s lakeside cabin. The cabin he had rented for the summer. The cabin where he was supposed to learn how to wind down and breathe again. The cabin where he was supposed to try and remember what it was like to be happy again.

Force majeure, fuck his life. As things stand now, Jongin will not have a lakefront cabin for the summer as the one he’d rented has been flattened by a fucking tree, and every other cabin in the vicinity had been booked months in advance. Minseok is still searching for an alternative but whatever happens, Jongin is driving out of the city the next day. He can’t breathe here anymore. He has to get out before he drowns.

“You’re frowning,” a familiar voice drawls. His college buddy is standing before him, with an intimidatingly large Nikon slung around his neck. When they’d first met in college, Yifan had had a camera slung around his neck too—a much smaller, much cheaper one but a camera nonetheless. He’d always known what he wanted to do with his life and Jongin admired that kind of sure, steady passion. Now, more than a decade later, Yifan is a fashion photographer and a very successful one at that. He only does magazine shoots and runway shows these days, but he always makes an exception for Jongin’s events because Yifan adores his friend. Plus, it definitely doesn’t hurt that Jongin pays him extremely well for the privilege of being the exception.

“It’s been a rough week,” Jongin explains with a humorless chuckle.

“The launch is a success and I’ve taken hundreds of fabulous photos that record said success. You shouldn’t be frowning,” Yifan teases.

Jongin stares at the lazy bubbles traveling up his champagne “You’d be frowning too if someone told you your summer vacation plans just went up in smoke. Or a flash of lightning if you want to go into specifics.”

“Lightning? Smoke? Sounds fascinating. I need more details,” Yifan says as he peers into his viewfinder. The high-speed shutter goes off, capturing burst shots of the glamorous people standing around the lavishly decorated ballroom.

“The lakeside cabin I rented for the summer got flattened by a tree,” Jongin deadpans.

“Your cabin got what? _You’re joking_!” Yifan gives him an incredulous look and Jongin takes another sip of the Bollinger. God knows he’s earned every fucking drop of it after all the sleepless nights this launch has cost him. Not to mention he’s somehow managed to acquire the additional stress of locating a place that can accommodate his solo ass for the next twenty-eight days. 

“Dude, I wish I were,” Jongin says bitterly as he raises his glass. “Have you had any champagne? I told you to help yourself to some. This Bollinger isn’t bad. And make sure you eat well when dinner starts. They’ve told you which table you’re at, right? I’m serious. Just eat. There’s no need to take photos of people eating, after all. I mean, who even cares?”

“No drinking while I’m working, remember? I need steady hands and all that,” Yifan winks. “But let’s get back to that part where you’re in need of a place to stay for the summer.”

“What about it? I’ll just drive around the countryside and stay in hotels or inns or whatever they have out there till I can find somewhere more permanent to park my ass.”

“Must be nice to have so much money you can just stay anywhere you like,” Yifan says but his tone is teasing, not judgemental.

Jongin snorts. “Money is overrated. For one, it can’t stop a tree from falling on your rental property.”

“That’s true,” Yifan nods. “What if I know of a place in the countryside that’s secluded with rambling grounds, is five minutes’ drive from a big ass lake, and is looking for a tenant?”

“Because it’s you, I’m gonna say, there’s gotta be a catch. A _huge_ one.” Jongin eyes Yifan skeptically and the much taller man raises his palms in innocence.

“You wound me, Kim Jongin.”

“What’s the catch? Just spill.”

“Well, you might have to help out a bit if you stay there.”

“Help out? No, thank you. I wanted a solo vacation, remember? That means not living with other people let alone helping said people.”

“But it’s a beautiful, cosy house and you’d love it there, I promise!”

“Yifan, please. The answer is no.”

“Where are you going to find a place now? It’s summer. Peak season. All the long-term rental properties would be booked solid. This place would be rent free and the landlord is very…friendly.”

“Rent free my ass. Are you selling me into sexual slavery, Wu Yifan?”

Yifan chokes. “We’re at a launch! People can hear you, Jongin. Jesus.”

“My question still stands. Are you selling me into sexual sl--”

“STOP! Just stop,” Yifan hissed, looking around apprehensively. Thankfully, no one is looking in their direction.

“What’s the goddamn catch, Yifan?”

“Fine! You’ll have to like. . .babysit.”

“I have to be a nanny?” Jongin’s eyebrows rise in indignation.

“I prefer the term babysitter.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. You’re desperate for a place to stay and this dude is desperate for a babysitter. It’s a match made in heaven!”

“Which part of solo vacation did you not understand? I’m not sharing a house with a man and his child.”

“Well, technically it’s chil _dren_? He has two kids.”

“That’s even worse! Are you fucking serious right now? Not just one but _two_ kids? NO THANK YOU. I’ll manage on my own somehow. Besides, what makes you think I know the front end of a kid from the back end?”

“You can’t fool me, dude. I’ve seen your noona’s Instagram posts of you and her kids and every time I bump into her, she can’t stop gushing about what a perfect samchon Jonginnie is.”

Jongin grimaces. “I can’t hold up my third finger here but I’m totally holding it up. Just so you know.”

Yifan laughs, “Is that a yes?”

“I hate you.” Jongin gives him a quick glare before reverting to a neutral expression. It wouldn’t do for him to be seen as looking upset 

“I’ll text you Chanyeol’s phone number and address and you can work out the details.”

“Chanyeol,” Jongin says contemplatively. “That name sounds familiar. Have we met?”

“You might have? We all went to the same college, after all. When I wasn’t hanging out with you, I was usually hanging out with him. I saw a lot less of him in senior year though. That’s when Chanyeol started dating Chaerim. They got married a year after graduation and had the twins a year later.”

“So both Chanyeol and Chaerim work? That’s why they need a babysitter?”

“Ah dude, no. Chaerim passed away two years back. So Chanyeol has been managing since then with help from a regular babysitter. He works from home and Amber comes in five days a week. But she’s on vacation in Europe and the dude is going out of his mind because he’s got some big deadline soon and needs help with the kids.”

“That sounds like a tough situation,” Jongin observes with genuine sympathy.

“Which is why you need to go save the guy, do you see? You need a place to stay right away and he needs someone to keep his kids out of his hair for a few hours a day so he can actually get some work done. It’s an ideal set-up! Even you have gotta admit it’s perfect.”

“Except for the part where I wanted a QUIET month away from stress and now I’m supposed to take on a stranger and his rowdy kids,” Jongin quips.

“You don’t know that his kids are rowdy! And Chanyeol is a great guy. You’ll love him. I’m not even sure why I never introduced you two in college.”

“They’re _children_ and they are two of them.Not only that, they’re _twins_ , Yifan. It’s extremely unlikely that they aren’t going to be at least a bit rowdy. Rowdy Kids and Quiet Month are not a good mix.”

“You know I don’t like asking you for favors, Jonginnie, but Chanyeol is one of my dearest friends and he’s going out of his mind. I’d help him myself but I have to be in Aruba for a week for a Vogue shoot. Also, those kids’ lives would be in danger if they were left in my care, let’s be real. I mean…I can barely take care of myself.”

“I really dislike you right now. Like intensely.”

“So you’ll do it?” Yifan is grinning unabashedly.

Jongin takes a huge gulp of champagne like it will somehow make all this go away. “I never said that.”

“So I’ll text you the details soon. You won’t regret this, I swear!”

“I never said I’d do it!” Jongin protests but Yifan is already melting into the crowd. Making a frustrated noise, Jongin downs the rest of the champagne. He can already feel a light throbbing in his temples and he’s 100% positive it has nothing to do with the meagre amount of alcohol he’s consumed tonight. Twins, for the love of fuck.

_Damn you, Wu Yifan, for always getting me to agree to the worst fucking ideas._

 

 

#

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Chanyeol’s phone buzzes. A message from work, he notes absent-mindedly. And then he sees the offending numbers on his phone screen and bolts upright in full-blown panic. How is it 1.55 already? He could have sworn it was 1.02 the last time he looked, fuck his life. His eyes scan the sitting room and God help him the place looks like it usually does when Amber isn’t around to run interference, aka a complete disaster. Toys and Lego blocks are strewn all over the floor. An empty Yakult bottle sits on the coffee table. A very large and very forlorn Ice Bear lies beached on the living room rug. The boys are barreling around, waving their Nerf guns in the air and yelling at each other.

“Boys, we have a visitor, so stop threatening to kill each other every few seconds and behave, understand? The nice man might be staying with us because Appa needs his help. So please try your very best not to scare him away,” Chanyeol instructs, his voice raised in warning. Naturally, the twins ignore him completely and continue to wage war around the living room.

He gives up on the crap lying around the place. After all, it’s the kind of mess Kim Jongin will have to get accustomed to unless he can figure out how to get the boys to clean up after themselves. Chanyeol manages to get the kids to clean up about 40% of their wreckage most days but today is definitely not going to be one of those days, especially when he only has four minutes to work with. He knew he shouldn’t have let them have those goddamned Snickers bars at tea time yesterday. _No refined sugar after 2pm, Park Chanyeol! When are you ever going to learn your lesson?_

He doesn’t want to make a bad first impression on Kim Jongin so he starts heading to the hall mirror. What if he has bits of egg in his hair or bolognese sauce on his shirt? That would be a disaster. He definitely does not want his new babysitter thinking his new boss, slash, landlord is a total hot mess (even if he technically _is_ one). When he stares in the mirror he almost screams because his tattered _School of Rock_ t-shirt and marginally less tattered sleep shorts are staring back at him. He’s been worrying about being caught with food on himself when he’s got way bigger problems like the fact that it’s past noon and he’s still in his fucking PJs. Oh God, did he even brush his teeth this morning?!

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck_ , he mutters under his breath as he runs to his bedroom. His PJs are soon a puddle on the floor as he frantically grabs clothes from the hooks behind his door. The shirt and pants from yesterday’s video call to the head office will just have to do. He’s pulling the black jeans on when the doorbell dings. He initiates another litany of fucks as he zips up and buttons his jeans. and yanks open the door.

“DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR, BOYS! No opening the door to strangers, understand?” Chanyeol yells as he comes careening out of his bedroom––buttoning up his striped, cotton shirt as he runs to the front door.

“Yes, Appa,” the twins chorus as Chanyeol all but slams into his own front door in his haste to get to it. He draws the curtains back a little to make sure that it is, indeed, Kim Jongin standing outside his door. It’s been years since Chanyeol last saw him but the man’s jawline and aristocratic features are unmistakable. Knowing he can’t delay the inevitable any longer, Chanyeol takes a deep breath and opens the door. 

 

 

###

 

 

It’s 1.59pm and Jongin stands in front of the red door, trying to decide whether he should press that buzzer. This idea really does have Noisy Month written all over it but the thought of having to stay in a hotel room for an indefinite period of time is even less appealing. Minseok had called him at 10 am to inform him that he’d called no less than eleven establishments in and around Lake Vincent and they were either booked out or closed for emergency repairs following yesterday’s storm. Jongin could have found an alternative holiday spot but his heart has been set on Lake Vincent for months now and when his heart decides it wants something, it’s practically impossible to change its trajectory. Which is how he finds himself standing in front of a strange house, about to determine his fate for the next few weeks (or rather, _days_ , if things turn out to be untenable).

He’d spoken to Park Chanyeol a couple hours ago. It had seemed like the wise thing to do. If the guy sounded like a serial killer, Jongin was driving to the next state to find a new vacation spot—Lake Vincent be damned. But much to his chagrin, the man had sounded warm and friendly, thanking Jongin profusely for agreeing to help at the last minute. He had reassured Jongin that of course he understood that this wasn’t a conventional babysitting arrangement, reiterating that Jongin would only have to spend six hours out of each day actually minding the kids, and the rest of his time would be his own. The guy’s house was even five minutes’ drive from Lake Vincent, for God’s sake. Jongin honestly couldn’t find any plausible reason to say he’d changed his mind and wouldn’t be coming after all.

So here he is. Standing half a foot away from the bright red door of Park Chanyeol’s house. It’s not too late to get into his car and drive away. It’s not too late but Jongin finds his index finger reaching for the buzzer and pressing it. Warily, he shuts his eyes and braces himself for the worst. He hears a loud squeaking as the door swing open, observing distractedly that those hinges really need a good oiling.

When he opens his eyes, he sees a gangly, broad-shouldered man in the doorway. The man is tall, probably two inches or so taller than Jongin, and he’s handsome––not in an overt way but in a quiet, almost intellectual way. His ears are too large for his face and his thick, straight hair is poking into his eyes. It’s kind of mussed, like he’s been dragging his hand through it all morning and Jongin finds the entire combination inexplicably attractive. Large frames are perched precariously on the tip of the man’s nose and his blue pinstriped shirt is very clearly misbuttoned. Yifan still owes him a photo but Jongin reasons that the man before him can only be Park Chanyeol, and Park Chanyeol looks, quite frankly, overwhelmed. _You mean he looks like a hot mess_ , Jongin’s inner voice hisses and he asks himself yet again, why he’s even contemplating this potentially catastrophic arrangement.

“Oh thank God you’re here! You must be Kim Jongin! I’m Chanyeol. Yifan’s told me so much about you. Do come in.” Chanyeol’s hand engulfs Jongin’s in a firm handshake. Behind Park Chanyeol, two little boys are running around the sitting room with ominous looking Nerf guns and Jongin swallows. Rowdy Boys for real, oh God.

“Hi, Chanyeol,” Jongin smiles and shakes his hand like he’s happy to be here instead of nervous as fuck and poised to flee.

_It’s not too late to turn back. I don’t owe this poor guy anything. He’s not my friend. I don’t need to help him._

“Appa, can we have some candy?” asks the twin with the apple cheeks and mischievous eyes.

“No, Baek. No candy after 2pm, remember?”

“But Appaaaaa,” the boy whines theatrically and Chanyeol shakes his head tiredly.

“Appa, can we have hot chocolate?” the other twin pipes up and this one has the most adorably large ears and somewhat serious eyes.

“You can have some at 4pm for tea, Dae,” Chanyeol says, sighing.

“But we’re hungryyyy,” the kid Baek whines _again_. Jongin can already tell which one of the two is a bigger handful. Chanyeol makes an exasperated noise before saying, “You just had lunch!”

Jongin’s feet are itching to take him down the driveway and back to his car but then he sees Chanyeol’s pleading look and hears his whispered: _Please! Please save me._ He should leave. He should leave right now and salvage what’s left of his Quiet Month. But the desperation on Park Chanyeol’s face is so tangible that Jongin just can’t do it––he can’t walk out on a drowning man. So he picks up his Antler case and takes an apprehensive step into the house. As he crosses the threshold, Jongin swears he can almost hear it. . .the undeniable sound of his Quiet Month swirling down the drain.

 

 

#

 

 

“Boys, put your guns down and come say hello to the nice ahjussi,” Chanyeol calls out, praying that the kids will behave themselves and not embarrass him completely, or worse, drive the new babysitter away.

“Hi there, what’s your name?” Jongin says in a quiet voice as he holds his hand out to Jongdae. _Interesting_ …people tend to approach Baekhyun first, being as he is, the noisier and more extroverted one. 

“My name is Jongdae,” he says, looking a little nervous as he shakes Jongin’s hand. Chanyeol clears his throat meaningfully and Jongdae gives him a slightly panicked expression before saying, “My name is Jongdae, mister ahjussi sir.”

“You can’t say mister ahjussi sir! It’s just ahjussi, duh,” Baekyun scoffs and Chanyeol gives him a very pointed glare. “Sorry, Dae,” Baekhyun apologizes rather petulantly before whisper hissing, “but it’s still just ahjussi!”

“Shut up, hyung,” Jongdae whisper hisses back and Chanyeol wants to hide under a rock, he’s so embarrassed by his children. He’s about to tell them both off when Jongin distracts everyone by asking Baekhyun what his name is.

“I’m Baekhyun, _ahjussi_ ,” he answers confidently as he shakes Jongin’s hand energetically. Chanyeol shakes his head. His older son is such an alpha male; he needs to chill.

“I’m going to stay here for a while, if everything works out. If everyone gets along,” Jongin says in the same calm, quiet voice he’d used to ask the kids for their names. Meanwhile, the twins are watching him with undisguised curiosity––like they’re expecting him to either sprout two heads or vanish in a puff of smoke.

“Why are you going to stay here, ahjussi? Are you homeless?” Baekhyun asks, staring inquisitively at Jongin. Chanyeol despairs at the boy’s complete lack of brain-to-mouth filter. He can’t believe his son has just asked Yifan’s rich ass friend (who probably owns not just one, but multiple homes) if he’s homeless.

Jongin looks very amused as he confirms that is he is not, in actual fact, homeless.

“Jongin ahjussi is going to help Appa out while Amber Jie is away so I want the two of you to be good, okay? No funny business,” Chanyeol warns as he side eyes them.

“Yes, Appa,” they answer meekly but Chanyeol isn’t buying the innocent act for a second. He really hopes Jongin is the kickass CEO Yifan claims or the kids are going to be running circles around him. If Kim Jongin can run an entire company and manage its employees as well as Yifan says he can, two kids should be a piece of cake for him. Right?

“Ahjussi, did you bring us a toy?” Baekhyun asks shamelessly and Chanyeol wants to die.

“That is really rude, Park Baekhyun. Say sorry to the ahjussi right now.”

“Sorry, ahjussi,” Baekhyun pouts. Jongdae looks like he’s dying to ask too but Chanyeol silences him with an ominous look.

“As a matter of fact, I did bring a little something for you. But you have to share it,” Jongin announces mysteriously.

“Share? You mean we don’t get one each?” Jongdae blurts out.

“Park Jongdae, apologise to Jongin ahjussi _now_. You don’t have to give them anything, Jongin! They’re so rude for even asking.Please, there’s no need to give them anything.” Chanyeol protests, shaking his hands in a very definitive _hell no_.

Jongin holds up his index finger and asks, “Just this once?” 

“APPA, PLEEEASE,” the twins beg and Chanyeol knows he’s outnumbered.

“Fine. But make sure you thank Jongin ahjussi properly,” he says in a stern voice.

“THANK YOU, AHJUSSI!” they yell enthusiastically.

“But first, why don’t you clear all your things from the living-room so we can get around safely without stepping on Ice Bear and your other toys. It wouldn’t be nice for them if they got stepped on, would it?” Jongin suggests in a very reasonable manner.

“But ahjussi, that’s not fair––” Baekhyun starts to squawk but Jongin cuts him off smoothly.

“If you clear away the area, you’ll have more space to play with the new toy. Do you see?”

“Ahjussi, we want to see our toys f––” Jongdae argues but Jongin is already leading them both to the living-room.Somehow, he convinces them to pick up every single toy from off the floor and couch. Then, he surveys their progress as they trudge to the playroom, arms spilling over with toys. Chanyeol is speechless with awe as he watches the corporate takeover happen right in front of him. He hates it when Yifan is right but Jongin really does appear to be a kickass CEO. 

When Yifan had called him last night to propose Kim Jongin as his prospective live-in babysitter, Chanyeol had only needed a few seconds to recall the handsome young man who had been Yifan’s regular companion during their college years. The aloof-looking boy in Yifan’s photos had looked like the last person who would have the patience or the interest to deal with kids of any shape or size. Chanyeol had honestly been on the verge of telling Yifan no, he’d just have to find someone else––someone more approachable. But before he could say anything, Baekhyun and Jongdae had gotten into an explosive shoving match right then and there. Feeling extremely overwhelmed, Chanyeol had thrown all thought of caution out the window and yelled into the phone, “I gotta go. It’s their 654th fucking skirmish of the fucking day. Send me your friend’s details and for God’s sake, ask him to get his ass over here ASAP. I’m dying here!”

Now that he’s seen Jongin actually interacting with his sons, Chanyeol knows he’d made the right decision when he agreed to give this arrangement a shot. This guy appears to be the real deal. He shouldn’t have too much trouble wrangling the kids until Amber gets back ( _if_ she gets back, God help him).

By the time the twins return from the playroom, Jongin has already extracted two boxes from his aubergine suitcase. The first is a large, colorful one which Chanyeol recognises as Mindscope’s Neo Tracks Twister Tracks and the second one is a much smaller box filled with additional Neo Tracks cars. They’re clever gifts that will keep the boys occupied for hours on end. Jongin is sitting on the rug, cross-legged as he helps the two boys to unbox the toys and set up the tracks. As they work together, he talks to them––asking them questions and answering their questions too.

“We’ll be just fine here, Chanyeol,” he calls over his shoulder, “You can go work on your deadline if you want.”

“But you drove all the way here from the city. You should rest.”

“I’ve got a whole month to rest. I’m good,” Jongin points out.

“Let me get you a drink at least. Tea? Coffee?”

“I wouldn’t mind some water. But that’s it. You just focus on your work and the boys and I will focus on ours.”

“Ok then. I’lll be right back with that water.”

All three heads are bent in concentration as they fasten the tracks together, piece by piece while Jongin consults the instructional diagrams every now and then. As Chanyeol heads for the kitchen, he decides that Kim Jongin is some kind of Kid Whisperer who can keep the little thugs under better control than their own appa can. Now if only Jongin can sustain this kind of success till Amber gets back. Chanyeol can’t help thinking that Jongin is some kind of fucking miracle sent by the universe to make sure that Chanyeol gets his shit done on time. He’s never been much of a believer in miracles but damnit, he’ll take what he can get.

 

 

#

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s 4.10am and I’m exhausted, but hey, I managed to finish this chapter update. Please do leave a kudo and/or comment if you’re enjoying the story, and come talk to me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/caffelotus) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/lotusk)!


	3. Chapter 3

  
“So, this is the playroom. Um, as you can see, the boys need to pick up after themselves more. It’s usually not as crazy as this but I’ve been a little stretched for time the past few weeks. Especially with my regular babysitter away,” Chanyeol rambles and Jongin gives him a slightly amused, slightly skeptical look. Running a hand through his hair, Chanyeol gives a long suffering and rather guilty sigh. “Oh who am I kidding? When Amber isn’t around, it looks this trashed pretty much every day. And some days it’s just…off-the-planet levels of insane. I hope that’s not gonna be a dealbreaker.”

  
“They’re kids. I’d be more worried if the place was really neat,” he laughed. “You don’t have to apologize, you know. My niece and nephew are four and seven so I get it. Really, I do. And I’m the one who’s supposed to help keep the mess and noise under control so you can get some work done. Or at least that’s what Yifan tells me?”  

  
“Well, yeah. I guess you are,” Chanyeol grins, cupping his forehead in a sheepish gesture. “And you might have to feed us lunch too if that’s ok? So I can work in one, unbroken stretch, you know? I’m open to ordering in though. All meal costs borne by me, of course. And I’ll take care of breakfast and dinner. I know you want time for yourself but you’re always welcome to join us for meals. After a day in our company though, you’ll probably be desperate to eat on your own,” Chanyeol says with a self-deprecating laugh.

  
“Desperate, huh? Should I be asking for hazard pay upfront, Chanyeol?” Jongin teases, his eyes crinkling with amusement. The man is so beautiful that Chanyeol’s gaze can’t help but linger. In fact, he’s so caught up in staring at Jongin that he almost forgets to answer his question. It’s only Jongin’s expectant look that shakes him out of his stupor. He hasn’t been this drawn to anyone he’s just met since…well, since Chaerim, and he feels a small stab of guilt at the realization.

  
“I’m not sure I can afford your charge rate,” he quips at last in a lame attempt at humor.

  
“Having a place to stay near Lake Vincent is more than enough compensation, Chanyeol. Don’t worry. No hazard pay necessary.” Jongin’s smiling again and Chanyeol is seized by a ridiculous urge to trace the laughter lines that crease his cheek. _Where did that even come from, Park Chanyeol?_  

  
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the Jongin before him seems so much more alive than the Jongin he remembers. His memories are of a beautiful boy with inscrutable eyes and a serious expression. The Jongin before him is still beautiful but his face has more angular lines now––the face of a man, not a boy. More importantly, this Jongin seems to have softer edges to him. A smile that’s reserved but feels sincere. Eyes that are cautious but not remote. Flashes of humor. Also, the fact that he hadn’t bolted at the sight of the little thugs masquerading as his sons is a huge plus in Kim Jongin’s favor.

  
Jongin had always looked unapproachable in photos Yifan had shown him in their college days. Like he was somehow above everyone and everything. When Yifan had showed Chanyeol photos from the road trip he and Jongin had taken through Vermont and Maryland in their final year at college, Chanyeol had commented on it––saying that Jongin didn’t look like the friendliest guy around. Yifan had laughed, explaining that Jongin might not be the chatty type but he definitely wasn’t a snob. He just took a while to warm up to people. According to Yifan, the guy absolutely hated having his photos taken and had only agreed to pose in Yifan’s road trip photos under duress. No matter how remote and even unhappy he might have looked in some of the pictures, though, there had been no hiding Kim Jongin’s physical beauty.

  
It’s kind of wild that this good-looking guy he’s only seen in photos a decade ago is actually talking to him _now_ , and he’s talking to Chanyeol _in his house_. If Chanyeol is being honest with himself, Jongin is even more attractive now than he’d been in his college days. He mentally curses Wu Yifan for not sending him a recent photo of Jongin like he’d promised. Perhaps he might have been a little less starstruck if he had known what to expect.

  
“And this is your room—which also happens to be the final stop on this second-rate house tour,” Chanyeol announces before pushing the door open. When Yifan had called him at 10.30 this morning to inform him that Jongin would be arriving at 2 pm, Chanyeol had yelped at the late notice and rushed headlong to the guest room to air the place and put on new sheets. It looks presentable enough now but the ice blue cotton sheets are probably a hundred times more basic than anything someone of Kim Jongin’s background would be accustomed to.  
He probably lives in some classy penthouse apartment in the city, or a luxurious mansion in the suburbs. Hell, he probably sleeps on bajillion thread count Egyptian cotton sheets. Wait, what if he sleeps on silk sheets?! These cotton sheets are going to feel like sackcloth in comparison. _They’re just sheets, Park Chanyeol. Calm your ass down. He’s here for Lake Vincent, not your goddamned second-rate bedding_.

  
Jongin scans the room before turning to Chanyeol with a casual smile, “Looks like a great place to chill for the next few weeks.” Chanyeol searches Jongin’s features for traces of distaste but he finds nothing. Not that that means anything. Maybe the guy is totally unimpressed but he’s just too polite to show–– _STOP IT, PARK. STOP FREAKING OUT_. What’s wrong with him? He hasn’t been this anxious about impressing anyone since college and he needs to fucking quit it before he embarrasses himself for real.

  
“Anyway, I’m sure you’ll want to unpack and rest. I mean, you should rest. You didn’t even get to unwind after the two-hour drive. And you were honestly such a big help today. I got a ton of work done! For like the first time in weeks. I’m so sorry you had to go into babysitter mode right away, though,” Chanyeol says sheepishly, sliding his hands into his jean pockets.

  
“It was no problem!  I’ve been wanting to try out that tracks toy for a while now. I wanna get it for my nephew Reon––but only when he’s ready. You know, like when he’ll actually listen when I tell him _no, Reon, you can’t eat the cars_ ,” he says with a chuckle. “Anyway, it was a great test run. And trust me, racing cars with your kids beats trying to stay awake at a board meeting. Anytime.” Chanyeol doesn’t believe Jongin about the board meetings. Not for a second. He knows what horrors the two little beasts can be and that Jongin is just being polite. But whatever the case, he got a shit ton of work done this afternoon so he’s not going to question this unexpected gift Jongin has given him.

  
“Anyway, I should um, go and get started on dinner. Thanks again, Jongin. For everything.”

  
“Oh God, I’m the one who should be thanking you. I could still be driving around, or pitching a tent somewhere if you hadn’t offered me a room. Who knew so many people wanted to spend their summer by Lake Vincent.”

  
“Well, Lake Vincent is really something else. Especially at sunrise and sunset. We should have dinner on the pier one evening,” Chanyeol says before he can stop himself. He knows he sounds more like an nervous teenager trying to impress a crush than a rational grown up but his mouth has apparently become a runaway train he can’t derail.  “I mean…no pressure to join us but I bring the boys out there sometimes. We swim for a bit and then eat dinner while the sun sets. Then we leave pretty much right after because the boys get bored and start whining nonstop about how they’re being eaten alive by mosquitoes and how there’s X number of shows they have to watch on TV and Y number of games they have to play on their DS.”  

“Sounds like every kid that ever lived,” Jongin reasons with a laugh as he strokes his earlobe between his thumb and index finger.

“They could be a little calmer,” Chanyeol grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, no pressure but would you like to join us for dinner? I mean it’s fine if you have plans elsewhere or you wanna drive down to the lake but if you don’t and you don’t mind eating simple, home cooked food—” Chanyeol knows he’s rambling like a madman but he can’t seem to stem the awkward flood of words.

“I’d love to,” Jongin smiles and Chanyeol’s insides fizz with anticipation.  

“Okay, then. Um, we usually eat at 7pm,” Chanyeol says before adding, “after Spongebob Squarepants.”

Jongin leans against the door frame and oh God, he’s smiling again. “After Spongebob Squarepants––got it. Thanks again, Chanyeol, for including me. I wasn’t really looking forward to driving around in the dark trying to find somewhere decent to eat.”

“Don’t thank me just yet. I mean, you haven’t tried my cooking,” Chanyeol jokes.  

Jongin’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “There’s always takeout.”

“Ouch,” he fake grimaces.

“I’m sure you’re a great cook, Chanyeol. Do you need any help with dinner prep?”

“No, no, that’s not part of the deal! You just rest, Jongin. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure. Just yell if you need some help.” Jongin steps away from the door frame, one hand gripping the doorknob. “So I guess I’ll see you at seven.”  

“Yup, seven,” Chanyeol nods and the door shuts with a soft click. He stands there for a few seconds, just staring at the door in a daze. He slumps against the closed door. _What is happening_ ? Why does he feel so off balance?

 

  
“Are you going to eat that, Mister Ahjussi Sir?” Jongdae asks and his twin gives a derisive snort. Jongdae rolls his eyes at Baekhyun before turning to look at Jongin again. Pointing at the last French fry on Jongin’s plate, Jongdae asks “Are you going to eat that, ahjussi?”  

“Ohmygod, you can’t ask people for food like that, Dae,” Chanyeol scolds, his mouth gaping in horror. The poor man looks like he’s about to expire from humiliation or exasperation—Jongin can’t quite tell which.

“But it’s just been sitting on his plate for ages!” Jongdae argues.

“You still can’t ask! It’s rude to ask.” Chanyeol looks…completely exhausted and Jongin just wants to save him from all this stress.

“Your appa is right, Jongdae. It is rude to ask people for food that’s on their plate. But since it’s my first day here, you guys get a free pass. Just for today, ok?”

“Does that mean I can ask you for that?” Jongdae still has his eye on the fat yellow fry Chanyeol had made from scratch. Earlier, Jongin had watched in the kitchen as Chanyeol expertly peeled some large potatoes and sliced them into slick, off-white sticks. Then he’d carried on watching as Chanyeol deep fried them all in a steel pot. He’d looked so capable as he stood over the stove in his bright yellow apron, his glasses perched precariously on the tip of his nose. Capable _and_ sexy, Jongin had thought (with an emphasis on sexy). Jongin has never been drawn to messy hair or aprons but Chanyeol seems to be a worrying exception. Chanyeol had refused to let him help, saying he’d done enough by keeping the kids out of his hair all afternoon. Nonetheless, Jongin had stuck around and they’d exchanged easy conversation as Chanyeol fried up a batch of fries and breaded chicken drumsticks—not frozen ones you got from a box but fresh food he’d prepared himself. He moved confidently around the kitchen but he was ever so slightly clumsy: spilling egg and breadcrumbs on the counter top, dropping the salt shaker when he was salting the fries. It was kind of endearing.  

All minor mishaps aside, Chanyeol had managed to get everything on the table at seven and it was no surprise to Jongin that all of it was delicious. Jongin hadn’t even had to take a single bite to know everything was going to taste fantastic.     

“Yes, Jongdae. You can ask me,” Jongin says with a mock serious expression.

“Can I please have your French fry, Mr. Ahjussi sir?” Jongdae asks in a rush of words like he’s trying to obtain Jongin’s _yes_ before his appa can put a stop to the whole operation.

“Yes, of course you can,” Jongin smiles as he pushes his plate towards the boy. Jongdae grabs the fry and stuffs it in his mouth before anyone can stop him. His twin brother protests noisily but Chanyeol silences him with a look.

“You heard Jongin ahjussi, boys. You get a free pass today but you’d better behave from tomorrow onwards.”

“Does that mean I can ask Jongin ahjussi for some of his dessert?” Baekhyun pipes up with shark-like speed.

“PARK BAEKHYUN!” Chanyeol looks like he’s about to have a stroke and Jongin groans inwardly. Just how deep in shit is he now that he’s agreed to babysit these two terrors.

“It’s okay, Chanyeol! I did say they could have a free pass today,” Jongin says in a placating tone. “You can have a spoonful of my dessert.”

“But it’s Cherry Garcia,” Baekhyun pouts. “Can’t I have two spoons at least?”

“One spoon or nothing. That’s my final offer.”

“Fine,” Baekhyun concedes, looking extremely disgruntled.   

When Jongin looks up, Chanyeol is staring at him with an expression of awe and maybe even admiration and it feels good. Hella good.

  


“So what do people do for fun at night in this town?” Jongin asks as he slots a dripping dish onto the drying rack.

“A fun night for me is having three hours of peace before bedtime without a single kid crisis landing in my lap,” Chanyeol says with a wistful expression as he wipes an ice-cream bowl and stacks it on the kitchen counter. “But I mean I have no life. A lot of locals like this bar called Whiplash on Windsor. You can also catch a movie at one of the two cineplexes in town or shoot pool at one of three pool places. There are other, newer attractions but I’ll have to ask around or do a search for those. I…haven’t gone out much at night the last couple of years. Since my wife died.”

Jongin stares at him with a slightly troubled expression before turning his gaze back to the pot he’s scrubbing. “Do you take a break from the kids sometimes? I mean, it must get exhausting.”   

“I try to go out to the city at least once a month, I guess. Either I leave the kids with my mom or Amber babysits so I can meet up with Kris and other friends in the city. Honestly, I don’t know a lot of people here because I spend so much time at home.”

“How did you end up in this town?”

“We moved out here for the kids, you know? Both my wife and I felt that St. Vincent was a better place to raise kids. Safer, quieter, lower crime rate and my mom is only half an hour away instead of two.”

“It must be rough raising the kids on your own.”

“It can be hella stressful, yeah,” Chanyeol admits, hoping he doesn’t sound as drained as he feels.

“After spending a few hours with your kids, I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job raising them.”

“Oh God, you’re being too kind. They’re brats.”

“Nah, they’re just kids with active minds,” Jongin says, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“BRATS. No two ways about it.”

Jongin rinses the last dish and turns the faucet off. “Well, I think they’re awesome works in progress.”

Chanyeol can’t help snorting. “Awesome works in progress, my ass. I can’t believe they asked you for chunks of your dinner! They’re shameless. I swear I teach them to have better manners than that.”

“They’re _kids_ , Chanyeol. They’ll get the hang of things eventually. My mom tells me I was a complete brat when I was six but look at me now. I can sit quietly at a table and eat with a spoon and fork and I didn’t even ask you for any of your fries or your ice-cream.”

“I need to give them such a big lecture tomorrow about mealtime etiquette,” Chanyeol groans as he hangs up the dish towel. It’s kind of funny how they’d just fallen into a smooth routine of Jongin washing the dishes and Chanyeol drying them. Jongin had offered to do the dishes all on his own but Chanyeol had insisted on helping. And he’s glad he’d insisted. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it—interacting face-to-face with someone who isn’t a six year-old. Chanyeol loves his kids but damn, they don’t exactly provide him with stimulating conversation. As for Jongin, he’s so easy to talk to. Not loud or demanding or too quiet or too invasive. Jongin is just really _nice_ to talk to.

“Don’t worry about that lecture. I did give them a free pass today. I’ll talk to them about the etiquette thing the next time they make a faux pas. You just deal with your deadline. You do have one, right?”

“Oh crap, I do! I should probably get back to that.” Little streaks of panic start flowing through his insides as he starts freaking out about the deadline he’d successfully pushed out of his mind the past couple hours. His houseguest slash temporary babysitter has been dangerously distracting.

“You should. I’ll sort the kids out.”

“I don’t expect—”

“Just till you get your deadline sorted,” Jongin interjects and that quells Chanyeol’s protests. He feels bad but he also knows he needs that the extra time. Desperately.

“Thanks, Jongin. Seriously, I am so grateful. And just make yourself at home here and just…thanks, man. You’re a real lifesaver.”

Jongin laughs, his eyes crinkling in the most entrancing way. “I’m not sleeping in some moldy motel room tonight so I reckon we’re square.”

“Yeah, ok, I’m pretty sure my house is mold-free,” Chanyeol chuckles.

“When’s their bedtime? What’s their routine like?” Jongin asks and Chanyeol’s heart feels just a little bit wobbly because Jongin seems to know his way around kids so well. He’s never known this is a trait he finds attractive but clearly he needs to rethink his list. He gives Jongin a quick run-through of the twins’ pre-bedtime routine and Jongin nods in understanding, asking questions here and there.

“Okay, I think I’ve got everything covered. I’ll get them ready for bed. You just work on your deadline. Go, go. I’ve got this.”

“I—thanks again, Jongin.” Chanyeol feels bad about dumping his kids on the poor guy but he’s also out of time so he’s just going to accept Jongin’s help. He leaves the kitchen and heads to his study, stopping at the sitting room to warn his kids not to give Jongin ahjussi a hard time. Mesmerized by Jake and Finn, Baekhyun and Jongdae more or less mumble a distracted _yes, Appa_. They’re sitting on the couch, their tiny, pajama-clad bodies huddled together. They might get on each other’s last nerve (and Chanyeol’s) during the day but at the end of the day, they’re twins and they’re on a whole other level of closeness that even Chanyeol is excluded from. Seeing them like this always makes Chanyeol forgive them for every little bit of stress they’ve caused him during the day.      

 

 

 

The boys are already half-asleep from watching back-to-back episodes of  _ Adventure Time _ when Jongin shows up at 8.15 pm to inform them he’s in charge of bedtime today. There are the predictable sleepy requests  _ for just ten more minutes, Mr. Ahjussi-sir _ and  _ just one more episode, ahjussi _ , but Jongin is firm and marshals them to the bathroom to wash their faces and brush their teeth. They barely even protest when he settles them in their shared bunk bed: Baekhyun on the top bunk and Jongdae on the one below. He tucks the boys in before sitting on the chair positioned beside the bunk bed. He starts reading from the picture book Chanyeol had left on the table, something called  _ Dragon-Masters #5: Song of the Poison Dragon _ . He removes the cheerful red bookmark and picks up where Chanyeol left off.  After he’s been reading for about eight minutes, Jongin takes a peek at the twins. They both have their eyes closed, tiny chests rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Well, it hadn’t taken long at all for the boys to succumb to sleep. He places the book quietly on the table before making sure the boys’ blankets are tucked securely around them. Then he turns the night light on, bathing the ceiling in a soft, golden glow as stars and moons glide across the white surface. They’re pretty, almost as pretty as the angels and harps in his niece Rahee’s night light. Jongin takes one final look at the boys before turning the bedroom light off. He leaves the door ajar as per Chanyeol’s instruction, that way they can hear if any of the boys calls out in the night.   

Responsibilities taken care of, Jongin knows he can either read a book in his room or watch some TV in the sitting-room, but he feels too restless to do either. A big part of him wants to go through his emails and find out what he’s missed out on at the office—whether some new crisis has cropped up or whether someone has found an exciting new product or whether it’s just been an uneventful day at the office. His fingers are really itching to click on his email app. Really, really itching. But he remembers Minseok’s stern face and his fiercely intimidating eyebrows as he’d warned Jongin to just leave everything to his team and that he would personally contact him if anything really urgent cropped up—something they absolutely couldn’t handle without Jongin’s input. Jongin knows his team is capable and responsive and he needs to just let them do their jobs. Sighing, he pockets his phone before he can give in to the siren lure of his inbox. 

He’s too restless, though, to settle down with a book or a show and he finds his feet taking him to Chanyeol’s study. The door is ajar as he’d expected. Chanyeol had mentioned something earlier about how he can never close any door all the way in his house when the twins are around because you can’t even imagine what kind of mischief they can get up to if they think no one’s listening. He stands in the doorway for a few seconds, debating whether to interrupt Chanyeol mid-task or not.

“Hey, I don’t mean to disturb you but I’m going to get myself a drink and I was wondering if you wanted one too?”

“Hmm?” Chanyeol looks up from his work, messy locks tumbling over his forehead and expression slightly dazed. He looks so endearingly confused that Jongin’s heart can’t help hitching. Just a little bit. 

Jongin smiles. “Would you like a drink?” 

Chanyeol stretches his arms out. He looks so tired. “I wouldn’t mind a coffee actually. Black. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“We have the same Nespresso coffee machine and I know how to work it so no, it’s no trouble at all, Chanyeol. How many sugars?”

“Just one. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.” Chanyeol’s smiling at him now, a soft, distracted smile with just a hint of dimple that has Jongin’s insides in gentle turmoil. 

“Anything to eat?”

“No, thanks. I’m kinda too stressed to even think about food right now.”

“Okay. But if you change your mind...you know, just holler.”

“I will. Thanks, Jongin. I feel really bad that you just got here and you’ve ended up doing so much right away.”

“It’s fine, Chanyeol. Really. I’ve got nothing but time this vacation and time is something you don’t have right now, so I’m happy to give up some of mine. Anyway, you get back to work and I’ll be back with that coffee.” 

  
  


  
  


Jongin slots the milk carton carefully onto the door rack before shutting the fridge door. He’s on his way back to the counter to collect the two, black ceramic mugs when he catches sight of a flash of color, high up on the side wall of the fridge. It’s a faded yellow square tacked in place by a Honolulu grass-skirt magnet. Overcome with uncharacteristic curiosity, he walks back to the fridge to examine the post-it. The black ink is faded and one corner is dogeared while another is stained with coffee or maybe even soy sauce. Bottom lip caught between his teeth, Jongin reads the items on the list. 

THINGS TO REMEMBER    
  


  1. No sugar after 2 pm
  2. Keep your cool 
  3. Be consistent
  4. Be a parent not a friend 
  5. Mind their manners 
  6. Not more than 2 hrs of screen time a day - 4 during vacays
  7. Don’t cuss in front of the kids
  8. BE A GOOD DAD



 

He rereads the last item again and gets this pang just beneath where his heart is.  _ Be a good dad  _ is underlined twice in red ink and the words are slightly smudged, like someone has run their thumb over the letters again and again. Chanyeol’s wife had passed away two years ago. Has Chanyeol had this list up here for two years? It certainly looks like it could have been up here at least that long. He runs his fingertips over the slightly crinkled paper. Then he reads the last line again, the pang in his chest deepening. Jongin’s only been here for a day and he already knows that Chanyeol doesn’t need a list to remind him how to be a good dad. He already  _ is _ a good dad. 

He’s still not sure that agreeing to this babysitting exchange is the wisest decision he’s ever made but there is one thing he is sure about. It’s the first time in years that he’s felt like he actually wants to get to know someone. Since the year Jongin first joined his mother’s tech firm, his life has been so consumed with work that he hasn’t had any head or heart space for anything more than the occasional, casual hookup. He’s been pretty much splitting his waking hours between work (75%), his parents, his sisters, his niece and nephew (20%), and his small circle of friends (5%). He’s known for years that he needs to eke out a healthier work-life balance. That’s what this vacation is about after all: finding that balance. It’s way past time he throws off years of stress and reclaims his life. Park Chanyeol and his twins are an unexpected detour in his quest but instead of feeling wary or frustrated, Jongin is just curious to find out more about them. 

_Ok, that’s enough navelgazing for one night, Kim Jongin,_ he chides himself as he grabs the two mugs from the counter. Black coffee for Chanyeol and some Earl Grey for himself. He’d brought his own tin of TWC French Earl Grey; he never travels without it because he doesn’t drink coffee and he’s picky about his tea. He’d told Chanyeol about having the same coffee machine as him but what he hadn’t told him is that he only keeps the thing around for when friends or family members drop by. As he makes the short trek to Chanyeol’s study he can’t help but remember the post-it on the fridge. And as he walks closer and closer to Chanyeol’s study, Jongin can’t help but think: _you’re a good dad, Park Chanyeol. You’re a good dad_.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's been a whole lifetime since I last updated this but real life and other writing commitments have gotten in the way ;;; Anyway, I hope you guys are still interested in this story and that this update doesn't disappoint. It would really mean a lot to me if you could tell me what you think of the story so far. Just, i dunno, let me know that you even care what happens next? I need all the encouragement I can get so please come yell at me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/glitterlatte) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/lotusk). Thanks for reading and please leave a kudo and/or comment if you like this story ❤

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you're enjoying the story! Kudos and comments are very much welcomed. Come talk to me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/stardustc0ffee)!


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